


Selfish

by apandasmind



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, idol pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8813581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apandasmind/pseuds/apandasmind
Summary: I'm not sure how to describe this. But it's angst, and it's sad. That is all





	1. One

It’s quiet. The moon has taken her counterpart’s place in the sky, illuminating everything she can reach in her silver glow. A light breeze travels through the air, ruffling my hair in its course, even sending a shiver over my skin. A cigarette is lodged between my index and middle fingers—a habit I picked up while on tour, away from her. Her, the one who keeps me grounded in the tornado that is my life. A sort of shelter—a haven—to whom I can go to whenever my surroundings threaten to override my sanity. Tonight, ironically, I need to be away from her. Her scent too sweet, her smile to heartwarming, her presence in my arms, warmth pressed against my skin, too pure. She’s too good for me. She knows what she wants, and has a clear idea of how she’s going to get it. She has everything planned. I shouldn’t be wasting her time: I myself don’t know what I want out of life. Underground rapper-turned idol, I don’t have an identity anymore, no plan: I’m just going with the flow. My friends back then laughed at me for becoming a trainee, but I endured it because it was worth it. But is it really? Now everywhere I go, I’m just an idol. I can’t be a person anymore. I can’t take my girlfriend out to eat. Even the simple walk from the house to the car threatens to attract a crowd of fans, all hungry for a piece of me.  
  
What is this life? Is this what I wanted when I signed that contract? I take a long drag of the cigarette and lay back in the chair. The stars are dancing in the sky, each the main character of the universe’s ballet. The living room clock glares at me through the glass door that marks the entrance to the balcony: 3:45 am. I have a schedule at six. I haven’t slept in three days. Writing, producing and recording have replaced my girlfriend’s embrace, while she’s been patiently waiting in a bed that’s been nothing but cold to her. The only thing inhabiting her uncontaminated soul is loneliness and though she’s a good actress, I know. I heard her crying in the shower this morning, as I left for a schedule. It’s been a busy period; I’ve had to deal with a lot of backlash. It was hard—still is—but they’re right. I’m a puppet, a shell of myself, made up and dressed to the public’s preferences. Long gone are the days where I could say whatever was on my mind as the music played. Long gone are the days where I could be me, and nothing else.  
  
I think about returning to the underground. More than I should. Its freedom calls my name every time I open my eyes and am plunged back into the whirlwinds. It’s tantalizing, really. Do what you want, say what you want, be your own person. She would love that, not being a secret anymore. Being my girlfriend, and not just my own personal pet that I keep at home and caress while I tell her she’s the only one for me. Me going back to the underground would mean we can be public, and all the stuff I’ve been doing can stop too. All these lies will stop, because in truth, she is a lie: to the fans, she is a rumor, there is no her. The simple prospect of her existence—be it theoretical or tangible—launches missiles. To me, she’s the safe-house when I’m home, but when I’m not, she’s the image that crawls to the darkest parts of my mind. An image that would only stop me from getting with the pretty make up artist who flirts with me, the cute girl who winked at the bar, the sultry waitress who brought us champagne, the call girls the boys find when we go out of town.  
  
It’s all a game, and she knows. She just keeps hoping I’ll change. She seems to find the best in me even when there is nothing but darkness running through my veins.  
  
Arms find their way down mine, lips are pressed to the back of my neck as she showers me with her love.  
  
“Oppa,” she says, her soft voice a stark contrast to the low growls echoing around in my head. I don’t reply and she begins a sentence—a poetic string of words probably intended to get me back to bed—but the words catch in her throat. Her eyes fell on the cigarette, I presume. “Are you smoking?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Since when? Is this a habit?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Minho, look at me,” Her slender fingers move over my cheeks and her doe eyes are boring holes into my soul. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“We should break up,” I mumble not caring if I come off as harsh. I’ve decided to start over. Maybe move to a different city, or country if the need arises. I’m going to quit the idol life, go back to the underground, become a new person. I need to get away, away from the golden luster that radiates from her face, away from her angelic glow. There isn’t enough in me to compensate for my dark heart.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Her face is serene as she utters those words, totally unfazed by my statement. The moon is now illuminating her in its silver light, making her look like some type of moon goddess sent down to calm and rejuvenate me for the rough day ahead.  
  
“I mean; we shouldn’t be together anymore. You’re not the kind of woman I should be with. You don’t fit with the life I live,” She stares at me, silently assessing my condition before she sighs and decides to leave.  
  
“You’re tired, come back to bed.”  
  
“I cheated,” I murmur, stopping her in her tracks. She turns around and walks until she is facing me once again.  
  
“How many times? With who? Since when?”  
  
Her arms are crossed over her chest and her lips are drawn in a thin line as she shifts her weight to her left foot. The breeze shifts her long brown locks from their resting place on her shoulders, also ruffling up her large t shirt in the process.  
  
“I stopped counting. There’s too many of them to remember. It was during our first tour.”  
  
The composed expression on my girlfriend’s face breaks into pain. Pain that grips my heart with a burning strength. She sits in one of the nearby chairs and hugs her legs close to her chest.  
  
“So is that why you want to break up?”  
  
I’m shocked, what does she mean? I cheated on her. There is no reason she should continue to be with me. None at all. She laughs bitterly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.  
  
“I’ve watched you be silent for days, hit rock bottom, rise, then fall again, and you think this is going to end things? Sure you don’t deserve me, but I’m not going to up and leave after all I’ve had to deal with you. You’re going to deal with whatever it is that’s wrong with you, and you’re going to come back to bed. You have a schedule at six,” She is angry. Her words are full of spite as she says them and walks back into the apartment. How am I supposed to fix this? I love her more than anything, but my presence in her life has begun to corrupt her. She wasn’t like this six-months ago. The sweet woman I know would have kissed me and told me it was okay, this isn’t her.  
  
Another ten minutes pass as I smoke out the last of my cigarette and return to bed, where she is curled up under the covers. The sounds of her sniffles is like being stabbed with a dull blade. She’s hurting and it’s my fault.  
  
“Jagi,” I whisper wrapping my arms around her, but she shrugs away from my embrace.  
  
“You smell like cigarettes. Leave me alone.”  
  
She cries until I leave two hours later. I know she said she wasn’t leaving, and I want her to be happy but as I sit in the studio, I realize don’t want her to go. _I need her._  
  
I should force her to leave, desert her, and make her be happy, but when I left the house this morning, I let her sleep in my bed, because as much as I want her to be happy, I can’t let her go.


	2. Two

I’ve tried everything I could. I’ve gone to unimaginable lengths to get her to leave. I’ve now come to terms with the fact that no matter how much I love her, how much I _need_ her, she isn’t healthy with me. I’m doing everything to push her away, to somehow convince her that this isn’t what she needs. The woman I love, the woman whose mere face makes my heart flip, has lost all signs of life. She had galaxies swimming in her eyes. Her skin glowed as if the sun stood behind it, music laced her every word and grace weighed on her every step, but as I look at her right now, that’s not what I see.

I haven’t looked at her, _really_ taken time to look at her in almost two weeks. I can’t take the guilt and shame of doing so because every time my eyes fall on her, I can see the toll I’ve had on her body. She’s lost so much weight, there are bags under her eyes, her hair doesn’t shine like it used to. Her soft lips. So comforting against my skin are now chapped, cracked, pale. Like the delicate and beautiful cherry blossoms die when the weather gets harsh, she has withered and died under our shared roof.

Her feet land softly on the ground as she makes her way towards me, but I leave before she can reach me.

“Oppa…” she whispers so faintly I can barely hear it. “What’s wrong?”

No answer comes from my end and her feet shuffle some more as she joins me on the balcony.

“Why are you running away?”

“I’m not running away, I just—I want to be alone for a while.”

Her sigh is heard and I’d be lying if I said its implications don’t break my heart. She’s tired and needs attention, but she needs me less than she thinks. A cigarette is lit and is brought to my lips where I take a long drag of it before letting the smoke exit my body in a long trail of gray.

“That’s going to kill you, you know.”

“I’m going to die from something,” She sighs again.

“Your… lady friend from the club called last night. Minho. I swear, you’re going to be the end of me.”

This time I actually turn around and look at her, but regret it as soon as I do. She is wearing a grey t-shirt dress with a navy blue long line cardigan. On any other day, I would have told her how beautiful she looked, but I can’t today. The clothes are literally hanging off her body, and for some reason she seems to ignore it.

“I’m not keeping you in this relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you we should break up weeks ago. Nothing is binding you to me.”

Shaky hands run through her hair. Her breath comes out jagged and her eyes close for some time.

“You’re right. Nothing is binding me to you. I’m still here because I love you. But this… you’ve become careless Minho,” She finally says, sitting next to me. “You’re smoking more. And drinking more, these—these girls. They’re always calling. Slow down oppa. The press is going to find out if you don’t.”

No answer comes from me and she huffs out in frustration, tears stuck in her eyes. It kills me to do this, but I’m going to get her away from me even if she hates me for the rest of her life.

“Do as you wish. I’m going to work.”

***

“How is she?” Jinwoo asks that afternoon when he joins me and I sigh, putting my cigarette out. “Are you still ignoring her? Minho, you need to do something about it before she dies for real. And stop smoking all the time. You’re going to ruin your lungs. Does the president know you’re doing that?”

“I—I know. I just don’t know how to do it. I’ve tried time and again tell her that she doesn’t need me. That she deserves better you know? And no, he doesn’t.”

My older band mate sits back in the couch with a sigh. I can tell a million things are running around in his mind. He’s soft spoken, but has so much to say that it scares me sometimes.

“You know her. She thinks you’re the only one that could ever love her. She’s dependent on you,” His words hang heavy over my head as I consider the point. But it’s the last thing to cross my mind. This is the woman who’s whipped me back into my old self when I was at my lowest. There’s no way this can even be considered.

“It doesn’t seem like it, but it’s true. And you know it.”

“Hyung, that’s so ridiculous. She’s so strong.”

“Being strong has nothing to do with being emotionally dependent on someone. I would think you’d know this. The girl is just as messed up as you are. She just never let it show.”

My head comes up to look at the older boy and he sighs, taking a sip of the tea that sits in front of him. His composed demeanor isn’t disrupted in the least by my obvious distress and I wonder how he does it. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in almost two months.

“I know she’s had issues, but.”

“Just talk to the girl. Be honest. She’s at a point in her life where everything revolves around you. You can’t just keep hurting her like that.”

“I know—

“So talk to her.”

***

That evening looks dreadful for me. She walks in and smiles at me, but her smile is dead. A mere hologram of the glory it once was. For the first time in a long time, I return her smile and she walks to my side.

“Jagiya, we need to talk.”

“Of course. What’s up?”

There is a certain pep in her step. As if the simple apparition of a smile on my lips has breathed life back into her. This is the power I hold over her. She sits next to me and looks at me with expectant eyes. the glow isn’t there, but a spark appears on her face. She almost looks like the old her.

 _Almost_.

“Jagiya, please believe me when I say I love you. but we can’t keep doing this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we really have to break up. Like for real this time.”

The flicker of joy that had appeared is wiped away and she tilts her head to the side.

“Why are you talking about this again? Why do you do want to break up? What did you do?”

Frustrated at her refusal to accept—because I know for a fact that she understands what I mean—I sigh in an attempt to calm down before I do something stupid.

“It’s either you leave this relationship or I will. I can even leave you the apartment. I’ll move back into the dorm.”

“Minho, I—you can’t do this. please,” She begs, a wild gleam of desperation covering her eyes. “I love you oppa. _I can’t love anyone else like I love you._ ”

“This isn’t love. This is toxic. This is suicide. You have to go before you die. You can’t do this to yourself,” I take her face into my hands and tuck her hair away behind her ear. She feels so frail in my hands. It’s heart wrenching. “Please jagiya. Please, save yourself,” I plead with her, tears stinging at my eyes.

There is nothing more I can do. I’ve given one last try, my swan song. If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what will.

That week she stops going to to work. She stops eating altogether, she stops doing all the things she used to do. She even stops talking. I can barely sleep because _I did this to her._ The thought keeps up up almost every night.

Why didn’t I just leave her to be that day? When she was tired and had dropped all her groceries in the lobby. I should have just walked past her. I never should have come into her life. What am I supposed to do now? She’s been scarred by my existence.

Jinwoo has been asking if I spoke to her. He’s been getting upset at me. He doesn’t understand. _I talked to her_. She refused to leave _._

It’s Friday evening. I’m probably going to go out with my friends. I’ve been spending less and less time at home this week. I can’t stand to be under the same roof as her. It’s just… it’s terrifying.

As I grab my keys, she comes out of the room, dressed in her outside clothing. Where could she be going?

“Jinwoo oppa talked to me,” She says with no warning. And I fear I sprained my neck with the speed at which my head snaps around to look at her. “I think you’re right. We don’t work. I loved you, I still love you Minho. No matter how toxic this was. But I need to leave. I deserve better. We _both_ deserve better,” She kisses me softly, her slim fingers resting on my face.

And then she leaves.

***

_She’s sitting at a table. She’s gained weight. The galaxies swimming in her eyes have returned. The sun has returned to its rightful place in her complexion. The music that was her voice rings in my ears. Like a ballerina, her movements are part of a complex dance laced with grace. The woman I loved is back. And she is happy. The man she is talking to is smiling. They look happy._

_It’s been six months. I stopped smoking. I stopped my reckless lifestyle. It was much easier than I’d anticipated. I don’t know how I did it, but my heart felt light. I was at peace._

_As I look at her living without me, and succeeding at it, I smile. I am happy._


End file.
